


Start With The End

by brittaniansun



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Jewish Booker, Love Letters, M/M, because I said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittaniansun/pseuds/brittaniansun
Summary: The gang finds some old letters, or what Joe now calls Nicolò’s Lessons On Love. Nicky insists they're Just Letters, Yusuf, Really. The first to come was sloppy, almost as if a child’s hand had been the scribe. It was less a letter, as Joe often insisted, and more a declaration. They read them for Nile to decide for herself.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Start With The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBookwormsDen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBookwormsDen/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Abbie! I hope you like it!

For a long time, they carried everything they owned on their backs. Clothes, food, weapons, necessities. It wasn’t until the late 13th century when Andy and Quynh finally caught up with them-- or they caught up with Andy and Quynh, really-- that they began stashing things to keep. 

It was also around this time that Joe really began to draw and write more consistently. Portraits, still lifes, poems, stray thoughts. Anything that crossed his mind, he committed to paper. With this brought the realization that Nicky never really learned to write Arabic. He could read, certainly. He knew how to find his way around markets and towns, and he could communicate almost flawlessly now. 

This realization is what eventually leads to what Joe now calls Nicolò’s Lessons On Love, or what Nicky likes to call Just Letters, Yusuf, Really. The first to come was sloppy, almost as if a child’s hand had been the scribe. It was less a letter, as Joe often insisted, and more a declaration.

They’re in Malta, December of 2020. It’s been a few months since Booker’s betrayal, Merrick and Kozak’s torture, Andy’s newfound mortality… and the kid. She’s the only good part of it all. He’s just rediscovered Nicolò’s Lessons On Love ( _ letters, Yusuf, they’re just letters)  _ when Nile walks in, freshly rested and showered. 

“What’s that?” she asks, gesturing at the pile of ancient papers on the kitchen table. 

Joe smiles. Her curiosity is something that continues to warm his heart.

“Depends on who you ask,” he replies with amusement, “I call them Nicolò’s Lessons On Love. Nicky insists they’re just letters, and sloppy ones at that.”

“That’s because they are,” Nicky insists from in the kitchen. Joe’s been banned from helping him for the past 700 years or so. Nicky says he’s a distraction.

“They are beautifully written,” Joe calls, “I would not have you insult the love of my life!”

Nicky scoffs and walks in with 3 plates, Andy’s likely sitting in the oven until she wakes. 

“Perhaps Nile can finally be our deciding factor,” Nicky teases.

Nile perks up. “I can read them?”

“Well, I’m not sure how good your Arabic is,” Joe says, “But we don’t mind reading them to you.”

“I’d love that,” she says earnestly. Nicky shoots him a knowing look and squeezes his hand once, then lets go to begin eating.

“After breakfast, then,” he decides.

* * *

_ I am his dagger. I rest between him and any danger that may come, tucked close to his chest and held tight in his arms. I’m ready at any given moment; should he rest his hand on that curve and clutch tightly, I know it is time. Almost two hundred years have I been there for him, perhaps two thousand more will I stay by his side.  _

_ I am his dagger, and he is my keeper. My sheath. It is because of him that I know when it is time to rest. It is for him that I can sharpen my blade and hone my capabilities. It is because of him that I am able to take a life and still go on after. It is because of him that the blood does not dry on my hilt or rust my blade. It is his love, his care, his sincerity that has kept me alive for so long. It is resting in his arms and between the precise gentleness of his fingers that I will continue to protect him and all that he loves.  _

_ I am a dagger, but without him, my purpose is nil. _

* * *

“That’s not really a letter,” Nile says after Joe has read it aloud. Nicky rolls his eyes and groans while Joe cheers triumphantly. “I don’t really see how it’s a lesson on love, either, though. Is it like… a love language thing?”

“Ah.” Nicky’s face softens at that. Joe smiles, and the crinkles at his eyes tighten and make his eyes sparkle. “Joe was not much of a fighter when we met. He only fought because he happened to be there, and he couldn’t bear to leave the city and its people defenseless.”

“I was a merchant,” Joe explains, “I was only in Jerusalem for trade. Once we heard of the invasion, I decided to stay. The days it took for them to arrive was how long I had to learn to use a sword.”

Nile’s quiet for a moment. She gets like this, sometimes. She becomes too overwhelmed and retreats within herself and takes time to think over everything and process. It was a technique she’d learned after her father died. 

“How did you forgive him?” she finally asks.

She’s been asking about Booker a lot, lately. They’re not sure how to respond most of the time, but they answer her questions the best they can. They share a look, and Joe nods.

“I ask myself that every day,” Nicky says, “I am grateful for it every second, and still I wonder how. For a long time, I thought it was only because he had no choice. We were being forced to stick with one another, not knowing where this sudden immortality would take us should we ever separate.”

He starts shuffling through the papers until he finds the one’s looking for, and his lips twitch once he finds it. It’s one of the newer ones, in the most relative sense. The Arabic is almost perfect. 

“I was wrong.”

* * *

_ Yusuf, _

_ I find myself often wondering how you have come to forgive me, and not only that, but to love me. I am afraid that these wonderings have caused such a rift between us that I am not sure we will ever return from. I have hurt you so terribly, and I can only hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive me once again.  _

_ You have explained to me that, for you, forgiveness was the hardest choice you ever made. Reconciling the man who killed you and many others with the man who rescued women and children from his own brothers was a difficult decision for you, and I apologize that I ever believed otherwise. I know now that you love me, not despite my past, but because of it. You love me for my ability to change and see what I have done is wrong. You love me because I was not wholly blind to the wrongs of war. You love me because, as you have pointed out to me, I have never once tried to change you. _

_ I love you, my dear sunlight. May you come home safe. _

_ Love, Nicolò _

* * *

Nile finds herself blinking tears out of her eyes. She doesn’t miss the way Joe smiles at Nicky, the look Nicky gives back. 

“I never realized you guys ever broke up,” she says, “I guess I thought you’d always been like this.”

“Oh, no,” Joe grins, “I didn’t leave him. We argued about it, yes, and I did walk away, but I was back not twenty minutes later.”

Nile laughs. “So what you’re telling me is he was being dramatic?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Nicky rolls his eyes and doesn’t comment, but he doesn’t wipe the smile off his face, either. “Okay, okay, I may have been a  _ little  _ dramatic-”

“-a little?!”

“- _ but in my defense, _ ” he continues with a glare in Joe’s direction, “It had been over 100 years since we had left one another’s side. And if I recall correctly, I was not the only one with a tendency to overreact.”

Joe groans this time, Nicky smirking triumphantly. Nile sits up a little straighter, her instinctual urge to fuck with her siblings kicking in. “Tell me more.”

Nicky shuffles through the papers a bit more until he finds what he’s looking for, handing it over to Joe. He makes a good show of looking genuinely upset, but Nicky doesn’t waver. He concedes and begins to read.

* * *

_ It has been an odd few weeks, meeting Andromache and Quynh. There are many moments to reminisce on and ponder, yet I find myself thinking of a time when it was just the two of us. We had only just begun to view one another as lovers, but the way we felt for one another was so powerful… _

_ Certainly, no one had ever been jealous of someone else over me. I had not noticed the man flirting with me, nor did I reciprocate his intentions. You didn’t act in anger, either; I know many men who have acted in ferocity over an event which their spouse could not control. You didn’t exactly act possessively, either. No, your reaction was far more petulant. _

_ I know you didn’t even mean to act in such a manner. You apologized to me profusely for it after the fact, and I forgave you even before you prostrated yourself before me in an act of contrition. I did, however, enjoy it thoroughly-- _

“TMI,” Nile interrupted. Joe laughed and continued reading.

_ In truth, I found it quite adorable. And securing, in a way. It was nice to know I was desired, to a fault. I only hope you know even now how much I desire you in turn. _

_ All my love. _

* * *

Andy emerges from her room and plops into her chair at the table. Nicky rises without question, heading to the kitchen to heat up her breakfast.

“You guys reading those old letters again?”

“Lessons On Love, boss,” Joe insists. Nicky tsks but elects not to argue. Andy is already on his side, after all. 

“Whatever,” Andy mutters, but she’s smirking. Nile has started to see more of her soft side lately. It’s been… nice.

Nicky comes back with her plate and she digs in, the four of them chatting amicably. 

“Hannukah is coming up,” Andy comments between bites of food.

Joe and Nicky share a look, “We know. We already sent him the stuff.”

Andy nods, “Good.”

Nile looks between them, confused. “What does Hannukah have to do with anything?”

“Ah,” Nicky says, “Sometimes we forget you don’t know everything. Sorry, Nile.”

“Booker is Jewish,” Joe explains, “Born Catholic, never cared much for the church. He converted when he married his wife. Judaism is the only thing he has left to remember her by.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Andy says, “Hannukah isn’t a very big holy day for them. Passover is far more significant.”

A silence falls over the table. In their anger and shock, it was hard to think about some of the smaller consequences to Booker’s exile when they decided on it. Andy had told Booker to have faith, so maybe…

“We’re gonna go see him?” Nile asks, almost pleading, “Right?”

Andy looks at Joe and Nicky. They look at her. She nods and finishes her breakfast.

“Yeah. We will,” she decides, “Now what are you waiting for? Finish reading the kid your letters.”

“ _ Lessons on Love, boss, you know this--” _


End file.
